


Shimmer

by cherryvanilla



Category: West Wing
Genre: Clubbing, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-06
Updated: 2011-08-06
Packaged: 2017-10-22 07:17:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/235356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherryvanilla/pseuds/cherryvanilla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>"Is there a place for me in the patterns that glow on your skin and your clothes?"</i> Written June 5, 2001. Revised May 9, 2002.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shimmer

She walked into the club, brushing her straight black hair back and off her shoulders. The place was hot and she was glad to have opted for a tank top. Her Calvin Klein jeans were snug against her hips as she slid her hands into her belt buckles.

The dance floor was overly crowded. The bar was as well, and she questioned for the thousandth time what she was doing in the city tonight. She was supposed to be meeting her friend Chris. He wanted to 'meet up.' She knew that meant he wanted to complain about his lack of a love life. She'd listen and nod and do a little complaining of her own, but ultimately she'd think they could be doing this over the phone and not in some loud NYC gay club.

She wandered over to the bar, her black Guess bag slung over her shoulder, and began to wait. She ordered a Coke and silently damned the paper bracelet on her wrist.

Almost an hour had past. She was on her third Coke and still no sign of Chris. She was just about to leave when she spotted a beauty across the bar.

Her breath caught in her chest and her heart began to race. The woman was gorgeous. Her face could have been the sculpture of Greek goddess, her shoulders were broad and her arms were long and slender.

She was sure the woman was in her thirties at least, but she didn't care. She stared at the woman, and hoped the eye contact would be received and returned. After a few painfully long minutes, it was.

She watched as the goddess fidgeted under her stare, her long, delicate looking fingers tapping nervously against the glass in her possession.

After a few more carefully chosen looks and not so subtle stares, she was up and moving. Everything around her was forgotten and she made the trip from her stool to the other end of the bar.

Soon she was face to face with this woman whom had captivated her from afar and the iniventible blush of nervousness swept over her cheeks.

"Hi."

"Hello," the goddess spoke, her tone undoubtidly professional. She had to wonder when the last time this woman had gotten out was.

"Mind if I join you?"

Waving a hand in the air, the woman shrugged. "Go right ahead."

She dropped her bag to the floor, hitched herself up on the stool, then turned to her companion and smiled. "Gonna tell me your name?"

"Uh -- CJ"

"Well, CJ, what are ya drinking?"

The woman, a tad taken back, looked at her drink and responded, "Vodka Cranberry."

Her eyes lit up. "Ohh. May I have a taste?"

CJ shrugged once more, and she took it at as yes. She brought the glass to her mouth, could smell the scented lipstick around the rim and longed to taste it first hand. She took a long drink and focused on CJ's eyes the whole time. The woman was definitely losing her nonchalant attitude as she watched.

She put the glass down and licked her lips. "You're lucky."

"Hmm?"

"I've been dying for a drink all night."

It was then the woman noticed the bracelet. She grasped her wrist and stared at it and the girl had to hold in her gasp at the contact. "How old are you, anyway?"

"Old enough," she responded with the confidence she wasn't sure she possessed.

"Apparently not," CJ scoffed.

She mentally kicked herself for not being able to even flirt smartly and then regained her footing.

"I'm old enough to know what I want."

"Ahh. And what do you want?"

Her eyes lit up once more and she leaned closer. "One guess."

CJ stared back and all she could hear was their breathing amidst the loud thump of techno music.

The spell was broken as CJ glanced away. She ran a hand through her dust blond hair.

"I don't do this."

"What?" she purred as seductively as she could manage.

"This!" The woman hissed and looked around the club.

"Then why are you here?"

"I'm not sure. I'm in New York for a meeting. I wanted to go out, wanted to go someplace where I could forget myself for a while. And uh, well I used to come here years ago. Seemed like a good place to start."

She didn't know what was with her tonight; she couldn't blame it on any alcohol. All she knew was that she wanted this woman and couldn't afford to waste anytime being insecure. And by the way the woman carried herself, she knew she wouldn't be made into a fool if rejected. She knew she'd be politely declined and that she could then go along her way, no harm done.

Half her life was spent being reserved to everyone and everything. Tonight, she wanted to be someone else.

Drawing a breath, she raised her hand and let it comb through CJ's golden hair. She felt the woman jump a little.

"You're beautiful," she murmured.

"I could be your mother."

She allowed herself to laugh. "Nah, she's sixty. At the very least, you could be my older sister."

The woman sighed and leaned into the caress ever so slightly. "You know what I mean."

"Yeah. And I don't care."

Their eyes met once more, but this time the desire was clear. She inched her hand down, over CJ's long neck. It was as smooth as she imagined. Like silk. Her fingers traveled lower, touching the goddess's shoulder, her collarbone. Her blouse was sleeveless and she ran her nails down one long, graceful arm.

"Dance with me."

CJ looked at her through heavy eyelids and nodded.

They got up, as if in a trance, and she was overcome by how tall the woman was. She looked her up and down and discovered that she was a figure of beauty. She imagined running her hands up and down those magnificent legs, imagined feeling those firm thighs beneath her fingertips, imagined her tongue lapping at the smooth skin.

She had to strain her neck to look up. Her face was level to the woman's breasts.

CJ bent down and whispered in her ear. "First, tell me your name."

She inhaled slightly, then exhaled, "Jessica."

Their hands met and intertwined. They walked to the center of the room just as possibly the only dance song she could appreciate started. Soon they were moving to the sound of Gigi D'agostino voice. CJ's hands were running through her hair. Her own hands were clutching the taller woman's back, fingers moving up and down in what she hoped could be conceived as a sexual motion.

Their hips were hard against one another, and when she slipped her leg between CJ's thighs she was held even tighter and lips were touching her ear. She couldn't take it anymore and inched up on her toes. Gripping CJ's neck, she pulled her down and let their lips touch. A heat spread through her at the contact and she immediately opened her mouth. When CJ's tongue met her own, she moaned and pulled her even closer, their bodies pressing tighter as tongues licked at teeth and gums.

She moved a hand down and brushed CJ's thigh. The black dress pants were hot against her fingers and the skin beneath felt even hotter.

She moved her mouth to CJ's jaw and licked a line across it, then trailed her tongue down to the milky skin of her neck. She suckled, relishing in the taste. She smelled of Water Lilies and Cinnamon. She wondered if CJ was inhaling her own scent of Cocoa Butter and Cerruti. She didn't cease her actions until she felt CJ's hands coming to rest on her ass as she tried to nestle their bodies even tighter together.

She gasped into the skin beneath her mouth and let out a long moan.

"We, uh, could we--"

"I have a hotel room," came the soft breathless whisper against her ear.

She nodded, unable to speak any longer, and hoped it would be enough.

It was. She was being led back to the bar, where they collected their things, and then escorted out. CJ never stopped touching her, be it a hand around her waist as they were leaving, or a tongue in her mouth as they groped each other in the back seat of the cab.

As she entered the hotel room and shed her tank top, her last coherent thought of the evening was that Chris would have to find someone else to bitch to tonight.  
* * * * *


End file.
